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THE BEACH OF FALESA
“I don’t know that she is,” said Case. “I believe she’s as right
as the mail. Keeps to herself, don’t go round with the gang,
and that. O no, don’t you misunderstand me – Uma’s on
the square.” He spoke eager, I thought, and that surprised
and pleased me. “Indeed,” he went on, “I shouldn’t make so
sure of getting her, only she cottoned to the cut of your jib.
All you have to do is to keep dark and let me work the mother
my own way; and I’ll bring the girl round to the captain’s for
the marriage.”
I didn’t care for the word marriage, and I said so.
“Oh, there’s nothing to hurt in the marriage,” says he.
“Black Jack’s the chaplain.”
By this time we had come in view of the house of these
three white men; for a negro is counted a white man, and so
is a Chinese! a strange idea, but common in the islands. It was
a board house with a strip of rickety verandah. The store
was to the front, with a counter, scales, and the poorest possible display of trade: a case or two of tinned meats; a barrel of
hard bread; a few bolts of cotton stuff, not to be compared with
mine; the only thing well represented being the contraband,
fi rearms and liquor. “If these are my only rivals,” thinks I,
“I should do well in Falesa.” Indeed, there was only the one way
they could touch me, and that was with the guns and drink.
In the back room was old Captain Randall, squatting on
the fl oor native fashion, fat and pale, naked to the waist, grey
as a badger, and his eyes set with drink. His body was covered
with grey hair and crawled over by fl ies; one was in the corner of his eye – he never heeded; and the mosquitoes hummed
about the man like bees. Any clean-minded man would have
11
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
had the creature out at once and buried him; and to see him,
and think he was seventy, and remember he had once commanded a ship, and come ashore in his smart togs, and talked
big in bars and consulates, and sat in club verandahs, turned
me sick and sober.
He tried to get up when I came in, but that was hopeless;
so he reached me a hand instead, and stumbled out some
salutation.
“Papa’s
had an epidemic here; and Captain Randall takes gin for a prophylactic -don’t you, Papa?”
“Never took such a thing in my life!” cried the captain
indignantly. “Take gin for my health’s sake, Mr. Wha’s-everyour-name – ‘s a precautionary measure.”
“That’s all right, Papa,” said Case. “But you’ll have to brace
up. There’s going to be a marriage – Mr. Wiltshire here is going to get spliced.”
The old man asked to whom.
“To Uma,” said Case.
“Uma!” cried the captain. “Wha’s he want Uma for? ‘s
he come here for his health, anyway? Wha’ ‘n hell’s he want
Uma for?”
“Dry up, Papa,” said Case. “‘Tain’t you that’s to marry her.
I guess you’re not her godfather and godmother. I guess Mr.
Wiltshire’s going to please himself.”
With that he made an excuse to me that he must move
about the marriage, and left me alone with the poor wretch
that was his partner and (to speak truth) his gull. Trade and
1
pretty full this morning,” observed Case. “We’ve
1
Please pronounce PAPPA throughout.
12
THE BEACH OF FALESA
station belonged both to Randall; Case and the negro were
parasites; they crawled and fed upon him like the fl ies, he
none the wiser. Indeed, I have no harm to say of Billy Randall
beyond the fact that my gorge rose at him, and the time I now
passed in his company was like a nightmare.
The room was stifl ing hot and full of fl ies; for the house
was dirty and low and small, and stood in a bad place, behind
the village, in the borders of the bush, and sheltered from
the trade. The three men’s beds were on the fl oor, and a litter of pans and dishes. There was no standing furniture; Randall, when he was violent, tearing it to laths. There I sat and
had a meal which was served us by Case’s wife; and there I was
entertained all day by that remains of man, his tongue stumbling among low old jokes and long old stories, and his own
wheezy laughter always ready, so that he had no sense of my
depression. He was nipping gin all the while. Sometimes he
fell asleep, and awoke again, whimpering and shivering, and
every now and again he would ask me why I wanted to marry
Uma. “My friend,” I was telling myself all day, “you must not
come to be an old gentleman like this.”
It might be four in the afternoon, perhaps, when the back
door was thrust slowly open, and a strange old native woman
crawled into the house almost on her belly. She was swathed in
black stuff to her heels; her hair was grey in swatches; her face
was tattooed, which was not the practice in that island; her
eyes big and bright and crazy. These she fi xed upon me with
a rapt expression that I saw to be part acting. She said no plain
word, but smacked and mumbled with her lips, and hummed
aloud, like a child over its Christmas pudding. She came
13
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
straight across the house, heading for me, and, as soon as she
was alongside, caught up my hand and purred and crooned
over it like a great cat. From this she slipped into a kind of song.
“Who the devil’s this?” cried I, for the thing startled me.
“It’s Fa’avao,” says Randall; and I saw he had hitched along
the fl oor into the farthest corner.
“You ain’t afraid of her?” I cried.
“Me ‘fraid!” cried the captain. “My dear friend, I defy her!
I don’t let her put her foot in here, only I suppose ‘s different
to-day, for the marriage. ‘s Uma’s mother.”
“Well, suppose it is; what’s she carrying on about?” I asked,
more irritated, perhaps more frightened, than I cared to show;
and the captain told me she was making up a quantity of poetry in my praise because I was to marry Uma. “All right, old
lady,” says I, with rather a failure of a laugh, “anything to
oblige. But when you’re done with my hand, you might let
me know.”
She did as though she understood; the song rose into
a cry, and stopped; the woman crouched out of the house
the same way that she came in, and must have plunged
straight into the bush, for when I followed her to the door
she had already vanished.
“These are rum manners,” said I.
“‘s a rum crowd,” said the captain, and, to my surprise, he
made the sign of the cross on his bare bosom.
“Hillo!” says I, “are you a Papist?”
He repudiated the idea with contempt. “Hard-shell Baptis’,” said he. “But, my dear friend, the Papists got some good
ideas too; and tha’ ‘s one of ‘em. You take my advice, and when-
14
THE BEACH OF FALESA
ever you come across Uma or Fa’avao or Vigours, or any of that
crowd, you take a leaf out o’ the priests, and do what I do. Savvy?” says he, repeated the sign, and winked his dim eye at me.
“No, SIR!” he broke out again, “no Papists here!” and for a long
time entertained me with his religious opinions.
I must have been taken with Uma from the fi rst, or I should
certainly have fl ed from that house, and got into the clean air,
and the clean sea, or some convenient river – though, it’s true,
I was committed to Case; and, besides, I could never have held
my head up in that island if I had run from a girl upon my
wedding-night.
The sun was down, the sky all on fi re, and the lamp had
been some time lighted, when Case came back with Uma and
the negro. She was dressed and scented; her kilt was of fi ne
tapa, looking richer in the folds than any silk; her bust, which
was of the colour of dark honey, she wore bare only for some
half a dozen necklaces of seeds and fl owers; and behind her
ears and in her hair she had the scarlet fl owers of the hibiscus.
She showed the best bearing for a bride conceivable, serious
and still; and I thought shame to stand up with her in that
mean house and before that grinning negro. I thought shame,
I say; for the mountebank was dressed with a big paper collar,
the book he made believe to read from was an odd volume of
a novel, and the words of his service not fi t to be set down. My
conscience smote me when we joined hands; and when she got
her certifi cate I was tempted to throw up the bargain and confess. Here is the document. It was Case that wrote it, signatures
and all, in a leaf out of the ledger:-
15
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
This is to certify that Uma, daughter of Fa’avao of Falesa,
Island of – is illegally married to Mr. John Wiltshire for one
week, and Mr. John Wiltshire is at liberty to send her to hell
when he pleases.
JOHN BLACKAMOAR. Chaplain to the hulks.
Extracted from the Register by William T. Randall,
Master Mariner.
A nice paper to put in a girl’s hand and see her hide away
like gold. A man might easily feel cheap for less. But it was
the practice in these parts, and (as I told myself) not the least
the fault of us white men, but of the missionaries. If they had
let the natives be, I had never needed this deception, but taken all the wives I wished, and left them when I pleased, with
a clear conscience.
The more ashamed I was, the more hurry I was in to be
gone; and our desires thus jumping together, I made the less
remark of a change in the traders. Case had been all eagerness to keep me; now, as though he had attained a purpose, he
seemed all eagerness to have me go. Uma, he said, could show
me to my house, and the three bade us farewell indoors.
The night was nearly come; the village smelt of trees and
fl owers and the sea and bread-fruit-cooking; there came a fi ne
roll of sea from the reef, and from a distance, among the woods
and houses, many pretty sounds of men and children. It did
me good to breathe free air; it did me good to be done with
the captain and see, instead, the creature at my side. I felt for
all the world as though she were some girl at home in the Old
Country, and, forgetting myself for the minute, took her
hand to walk with. Her fi ngers nestled into mine, I heard her
16
THE BEACH OF FALESA
breathe deep and quick, and all at once she caught my hand to
her face and pressed it there. “You good!” she cried, and ran
ahead of me, and stopped and looked back and smiled, and
ran ahead of me again, thus guiding me through the edge of
the bush, and by a quiet way to my own house.
The truth is, Case had done the courting for me in
style – told her I was mad to have her, and cared nothing for
the consequence; and the poor soul, knowing that which I was
still ignorant of, believed it, every word, and had her head
nigh turned with vanity and gratitude. Now, of all this I had
no guess; I was one of those most opposed to any nonsense
about native women, having seen so many whites eaten up by
their wives’ relatives, and made fools of in the bargain; and
I told myself I must make a stand at once, and bring her to her
bearings. But she looked so quaint and pretty as she ran away
and then awaited me, and the thing was done so like a child
or a kind dog, that the best I could do was just to follow her
whenever she went on, to listen for the fall of her bare feet,
and to watch in the dusk for the shining of her body. And
there was another thought came in my head. She played kitten
with me now when we were alone; but in the house she had
carried it the way a countess might, so proud and humble. And
what with her dress – for all there was so little of it, and that
native enough – what with her fi ne tapa and fi ne scents, and
her red fl owers and seeds, that were quite as bright as jewels,
only larger – it came over me she was a kind of countess really,
dressed to hear great singers at a concert, and no even mate for
a poor trader like myself.
17
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
She was the fi rst in the house; and while I was still without
I saw a match fl ash and the lamplight kindle in the windows.
The station was a wonderful fi ne place, coral built, with quite
a wide verandah, and the main room high and wide. My chests
and cases had been piled in, and made rather of a mess; and
there, in the thick of the confusion, stood Uma by the table,
awaiting me. Her shadow went all the way up behind her
into the hollow of the iron roof; she stood against it bright,
the lamplight shining on her skin. I stopped in the door, and
she looked at me, not speaking, with eyes that were eager and
yet daunted; then she touched herself on the bosom.
“Me – your wifi e,” she said. It had never taken me like that
before; but the want of her took and shook all through me, like
the wind in the luff of a sail.
I could not speak if I had wanted; and if I could, I would
not. I was ashamed to be so much moved about a native,
ashamed of the marriage too, and the certifi cate she had treasured in her kilt; and I turned aside and made believe to rummage among my cases. The fi rst thing I lighted on was a case of
gin, the only one that I had brought; and, partly for the girl’s
sake, and partly for horror of the recollections of old Randall,
took a sudden resolve. I prized the lid off. One by one I drew
the bottles with a pocket corkscrew, and sent Uma out to pour
the stuff from the verandah.
She came back after the last, and looked at me puzzled like.
“No good,” said I, for I was now a little better master of my
tongue. “Man he drink, he no good.”
18
THE BEACH OF FALESA
She agreed with this, but kept considering. “Why you bring
him?” she asked presently. “Suppose you no want drink, you
no bring him, I think.”
“That’s all right,” said I. “One time I want drink too much;
now no want. You see, I no savvy I get one little wifi e. Suppose
I drink gin, my little wifi e he ‘fraid.”
To speak to her kindly was about more than I was fi t for;
I had made my vow I would never let on to weakness with
a native, and I had nothing for it but to stop.
She stood looking gravely down at me where I sat by
the open case. “I think you good man,” she said. And suddenly
she had fallen before me on the fl oor. “I belong you all-e-same
pig!” she cried.
CHAPTER II
THE BAN
I CAME on the verandah just before the sun rose on the morrow. My house was the last on the east; there was a cape of woods
and cliffs behind that hid the sunrise. To the west, a swift cold
river ran down, and beyond was the green of the village, dotted with cocoa-palms and breadfruits and houses. The shutters
were some of them down and some open; I saw the mosquito
bars still stretched, with shadows of people new-awakened
sitting up inside; and all over the green others were stalking silent, wrapped in their many-coloured sleeping clothes
like Bedouins in Bible pictures. It was mortal still and solemn
and chilly, and the light of the dawn on the lagoon was like
the shining of a fi re.
But the thing that troubled me was nearer hand. Some dozen young men and children made a piece of a half-circle, fl anking my house: the river divided them, some were on the near
side, some on the far, and one on a boulder in the midst; and
they all sat silent, wrapped in their sheets, and stared at me
and my house as straight as pointer dogs. I thought it strange
as I went out. When I had bathed and come back again, and
found them all there, and two or three more along with them,
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